


Monsters in Ink

by round_robin



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Gen, Implied Relationship, M/M, Moving On, Presents, after the war, hospital stays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-20
Updated: 2013-09-20
Packaged: 2017-12-27 04:05:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/974123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/round_robin/pseuds/round_robin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the dust settles, there's still Hermann and there's still Newt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Monsters in Ink

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Pacific Rim fic. I only saw the film once, but I did read the official novelization (because I'm a nerd like that) and made liberal use of the Wiki to write this. Yet, if anyone sees a continuity mistake (or a typo) feel free to tell me about it.
> 
> Not beta'd. If you find a typo, please include it in your comment and it will be caught and shot.
> 
> Also: enjoy. :)

Somehow, despite his already frail nature, Hermann was the first up out of his sick bed after their ill-fated yet world-saving drift with the kaiju. After everything had calmed down and everyone could think for a minute (long enough to mourn the ones they lost) Herc ordered full medicals for everyone. This—unfortunately—included Newt and Hermann.

Having drifted with kaiju parts twice now, Newt was justifiably in worse shape, and was relegated to another week of “observation.” Hermann was set free with a clean bill of health, and a “don’t go too far” from Herc, as he still wouldn’t decommission the Shatterdome until he knew everyone was one hundred percent.

How could Hermann possibly go far when Newt was still here? That would be like leaving Hong Kong without his good leg. Or rather, without his torso.

Still, he couldn’t stand hospital spaces for too long and Newt was on so many drugs, he kept going in and out. Hermann decided to occupy himself with a stroll around what was left of Hong Kong. They’d worked so hard to save the world, it was high time he saw some of it.

It had become the way of the world to recover quickly from kaiju attacks, and things looked more or less normal. People went to work, they shopped, they went to lunch. All of it normal. The only things that would suggest a recent attack was the obvious evidence—the kaiju corpse still being cleaned away, so large one could see it from most areas of the city—and of course, the chatter. Everywhere he went, Hermann heard people talking about it. Who was there, who saw it, who had heard what inaccurate statement about what.

He tried to tune it out, but something caught his ear:

“No one wants their kaiju merchandise anymore,” a voice said in rapid Mandarin. “Parts of the kaiju, sure, that stuff always makes a profit. But all those toys and action figures and art, no one wants them. I walked by a shop two blocks over, they’re advertising seventy-five percent off all kaiju posters and toys just to get rid of them.”

What propelled him through the streets looking for the shop, he couldn’t say. The sigh of satisfaction when he found it, that he could explain; his leg was beginning to bother him and further searching would become very painful indeed.

The little bell over the door tinkled as Hermann entered. The young woman behind the counter sprang to attention as soon as she heard it, wide smile slotting into place. “Welcome!” she said, again in Mandarin. “How may I help you?”

“Good afternoon,” Hermann greeted. “I heard you were having a sale on kaiju art. Would you happen to have anything… detailed?” Hum, that wasn’t very specific.

Before Hermann could come up with a better description of what he was looking for, the woman nodded. “Yes. We have these art scrolls.” She gestured for him to follow her to the relevant shelf, where she unrolled one of the pictures in question. “The owner of the shop knows this man from Okinawa—well, before they evacuated it. He does these beautiful anatomical drawings. Trouble is, they don’t sell too well. Not even before the Breach was closed. Is this something you might be interested in?”

The scroll of fake-silk unrolled smoothly, almost like the real thing, and Hermann looked with wide eyes at the most detailed kaiju anatomy drawing he’d ever seen outside of Newt’s side of the lab. Everything was so precise, right down to the number of teeth in the beast’s mouth. Yet these were so clearly art drawings. He couldn’t say why, he just knew. And he knew he needed to have them for Newt.

“How many are there?” he asked softly, still overcome by the beauty in front of him. The first time he’d ever found a kaiju beautiful, actually. Could this be how Newt felt about them?

The woman took a quick look at the shelf. “We have about fifteen different kaiju, but they’re all older ones. It’s only been two weeks since Leatherback and Otachi. And no one knows what the ones from the Breach closing look like yet.”

“Yes,” Hermann said. “I’ll take them.”

Half an hour later, Hermann emerged from the shop holding two bags stuffed with the scrolls. It was a little awkward walking with them and his cane, but he found a cab quickly enough and bade it to take him back to the Shatterdome.

~

Newt opened his eyes to see Hermann sitting next to his bed wearing a different set of clothes. Different day from the last time he’d woken, then. “Hey,” he mumbled.

“Hello,” Hermann said. “How are you feeling?”

Newt shrugged. “Honestly, man, I felt better after the Drift. All these drugs… I can’t think straight.”

“Your eye is improving. That’s something, at least.” Hermann said. Newt nodded.

Before he could succumb to the narcotics again, Hermann cleared his throat. “I have something for you.”

Newt heard the crinkle of the bag and perked up. “Presents?” he asked, suddenly more awake than he’d been in days.

Hermann nodded his answer, as he did not trust his voice. The only thing that kept him from brimming over with enthusiasm were the years of practice he had at appearing stoic, and keeping his emotions very close to himself. This was perhaps the first time he’d ever been this excited about someone else’s reaction to something. Making Newt feel better was oh so important, so he chose which scroll to show him first with the utmost care.

The not-silk unrolled smoothly, and Hermann heard Newt gasp as Yamarashi unfolded before his eyes.

“I found them in a shop,” Hermann said, unable to stand the stunned silence. “They’re the most detailed anatomical drawings I’ve ever seen, yet they’re so clearly artistic, even I can see it.” Newt still said nothing, so Hermann kept going. “I know how keen you’ve always been to see certain kaiju up close, and since that option is no longer available, I thought these would be appropriate compensation.”

Newt still said nothing. With slow, careful hands, he reached forward and took the scroll from Hermann. Looking at it for a long moment, he gave a happy sigh. In the silence, Hermann laid his hand on his left arm, thumb stroking the ink there, the depiction of the very creature on the scroll.

Resting the scroll across his lap, Newt placed his hand over Hermann’s. “Thanks,” he said. “Really, these are so great.”

Hermann deflected the comment. “It was nothing.”

Newt’s fingers squeezed his. “No, it’s really something.”

He reached out with his other arm and cupped his hand around the back of Hermann’s neck, bringing their faces close together until their noses were touching. Both let their eyes close as their breath fell in tandem.

“We’ll be all right,” Hermann whispered. Newt nodded.

The war they’d been fighting for far too long was finally over. Their field was now obsolete, and they were both broken. But they would heal. They would go back to their life stronger for having been a part of this cause, and even stronger for having found each other within the chaos.

The End


End file.
